Delivery

08-24-13

Delivery

I have turned into

what I have always run from

The beating of the drums sound

loud and thunderous, my

body shaking franticly in nervousness

I try to keep my body straight- but

I can't, I feel eyes notice my trembling

I hide my hands and smile slyly at onlookers

For it is not I that am committing a crime,

or so I make myself believe

But I have brought this on to occur

The middle man between the two that

dance.

My shameful self, has no shame

And wonders for the next time

Where the delivery of a meal

In exchange for good tipping

seams to me to be

Just fine